"Huff... finally, we've reached the army camp," Jaspreet exhaled, his hands gripping the steering wheel of the truck as he addressed the female commando.
The tires screeched to a halt. Both tumbled out of the vehicle, battered and bruised. "Alright Jaspreet, move! We can't wait," the commando urged. "Those monsters are likely heading toward the city by now."
Bleeding and leaning on each other for support, they limped toward the entrance. Six or seven remaining soldiers rushed toward them, faces pale with shock. "Jaspreet! What happened? Where is everyone else? The comms went dead—we've been losing our minds here!"
Commander Subramanya Iyer emerged from his tactical cabin, rushing toward the wounded pair. "No, no, no... what have those things done?"
"Sir, don't worry about us," the girl commando interjected, her voice rasping. "Ready the Special Forces. Those monsters are moving toward the urban sectors. We've lost too many innocent lives already. No more, sir."
"She's right, sir," Jaspreet added grimly.
Iyer's face hardened. "Fine. I need to contact the 'Big Boss.' He's the only one who knows how to deal with these... abominations. Get inside! Medical team, frontline treatment, now!"
Iyer retreated to his cabin and pulled up a restricted file on his monitor. The title read: DEMONS. A list of profiles appeared, but the faces remained obscured—hidden behind layers of high-level encryption.
"Should I call them?" Iyer whispered, sweat beading on his forehead. "Calling them is either the smartest move or the greatest act of stupidity in human history. Damn it!"
With trembling fingers, he selected a contact marked Details: Unknown and initiated the call.
Trin... trin... trin... No response.
"Pick up, damn it," he cursed. He tried again. After several rings, a heavy, resonant voice vibrated through the speaker—a voice that sounded like grinding stone.
"JAI MAHAKAL! What catastrophe has struck now?"
"Jai Mahakal, sir," Iyer stammered. "This is Iyer. In the Rajouri-Poonch sector... two terrorists injected themselves with a violet serum. They've mutated into monsters. Even the Special Forces couldn't stop them."
"You couldn't handle two terrorists?" the voice boomed, dripping with cold authority. "Fine. But you know the price for my interference."
"Hello? But sir—"
Click. The line went dead.
"Shit!" Iyer slammed his desk. He reached for his radio. "Special Forces, come in—"
"Don't worry, Iyer," a voice crackled back from the Special Forces leader. "Backup is already en route. Let's hope they can finish this."
The Forest – 3:10 AM
Acharya Tantrik sprinted through the dense undergrowth, the two mutated monsters trailing behind him like loyal hounds. "I need that divine power and knowledge today, no matter the cost," he hissed. "Move faster! The Brahmrakshas is mine today."
Meanwhile, the Brahmrakshas loomed over Kunal, wearing a terrifying, predatory grin. Kunal stood his ground, drenched in sweat, clutching a blue doll in his right hand.
"Why so eager to die young, boy?" the Brahmrakshas mocked. "If you want to live, drop that doll into my mouth. I've been asleep for three hundred years... I am famished."
Kunal looked at the doll, then tossed it onto the dirt between them. "You want it? Come get it."
As the creature lunged, Kunal's voice rang out with ancient authority: "Hrīṁ navamaṁ rūpaṁ mudrā-bhedanaṁ śuddhasyāśuddhīkaraṇam!"
The doll didn't just fall; it hovered. Cracks spider-webbed across its porcelain surface.
"Foolish child! What have you done?" the monster roared.
CRACK! The doll shattered. A swarm of spirits erupted from the shards, but they weren't free. Glowing red threads extended from their chests, anchoring directly into Kunal's heart. He was now the nexus of a spectral army.
Infuriated, the Brahmrakshas swung a massive fist at Kunal's face. Before it could connect, Mohna appeared. Her eyes glowed a brilliant, lethal gold. Releasing her full spiritual pressure, she manifested an invisible barrier that stopped the blow cold.
"Who are you, beautiful? Move!" the monster growled.
"How dare you touch my Master?" Mohna's voice was a chilling whisper. She increased her pressure, attempting to crush the creature into the earth. The Brahmrakshas resisted, snapping back with his own aura. He lunged forward, grabbing Mohna by the throat. "So much compassion for a mere human?"
"Look at me!" Kunal shouted, snapping his hands into a seal. "Sarvānu-yāyādeśaḥ — Takitrasya prathamaṁ rūpam!"
Under the Takitra command, the spirits swarmed the Brahmrakshas, binding his limbs. The creature struggled, trying to use a Hrin counter-mantra: "Hrīṁ dvitīyaṁ rūpaṁ macutvān-huṁkāraḥ patana-nirodhanam!"
Nothing happened. Mohna began to laugh—a mocking, ethereal sound.
"You forgot," Kunal said, his voice steady. "These spirits are bound to me. I didn't use Hrin; I used Takitra. Your counter-spells are useless here."
(In the laws of Tantra-Shastra, while Hrin manipulates the natural world, Takitra creates an unbreakable bond between a living soul and the dead. Once a Takitra command is given, no Hrin attack can sever the spirit's will.)
"I underestimated you, boy," the Brahmrakshas hissed, his body beginning to blur. "But I have seen things you haven't even dreamed of. Hrīṁ dhūma-jīvanaṁ rūpaṁ — bhūta-dhūmīkaraṇam!"
The monster dissolved into a thick, suffocating black gas. Mohna broke free from his grip and flew to Kunal's side. "Master!"
"Watch the shadows!" Kunal warned.
The black smoke engulfed the clearing. Kunal's spirits formed a protective circle, but one by one, they were snatched into the darkness.
"Mohna, now!"
Mohna closed her eyes. "Kṣetra-vistāraḥ — duṣṭa-dṛṣṭiḥ pravartyatām!" An invisible pulse rippled outward. As the Brahmrakshas tried to materialize for a killing blow, he was caught in the barrier, forced back into his physical form.
Kunal didn't hesitate. He leaped, driving his dagger deep into the creature's back. "Hrīṁ caturthaṁ rūpaṁ tattva-bandhanam!"
The smoke dissipated instantly. With a roar of agony, the Brahmrakshas grabbed Kunal, spinning him like a ragdoll and slamming him into a massive tree.
CRACK. Kunal slumped to the ground, unconscious. The Brahmrakshas pulled the dagger from his own back and, with a cruel sneer, drove it into Kunal's stomach. "This is the price of your arrogance."
"MASTER!" Mohna's scream shook the forest.
She flew to him, cradling his head. "No, no... stay with me." Her grief instantly curdled into a white-hot rage. She turned on the Brahmrakshas, her movements becoming a blur. She gripped him by the neck and began slamming him into the trees with such force the trunks shattered like toothpicks.
She was losing herself to the darkness. Her skin turned a deathly grey, covered in obsidian cracks. Her eyes burned with a terrifying light as she hovered in the air, a fallen angel of vengeance, looking down at her bleeding Master.
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UPCOMING: The Arrival of Kaal....